Dangerous Liaisons
by YoukoRei
Summary: LuciusSirius. Lucius smudges the lines between hate and obsession.


**Title:**  Dangerous Liaisons

**Author:** YoukoRei (Chrissy Taylor)

**Timeline:** Long, long ago, before the Boy Who Lived lived….  Sirius in his fourth year at Hogwarts, Lucius at 20 in the Ministry.

**Pairings:**  Lucius/Sirius

**Summary:** Lucius smudges the lines between hate and obsession.****

**Warnings:** There are quite a few.  Let me tick them off for you:  Slash, for one.  Underage relations for another.  Voyeristic mothers.  All in all, a Victorian smorgasbord.  

**Author's Note:** I've named Sirius' mother Cygnus after the swan constellation in the northern hemisphere between Pegasus and Draco in the Milky Way.  It contains a black hole.  How's that for irony?  Also note, Lucius is married to Narcissa at this point, so he and Sirius **are** cousins by marriage.

**Disclaimer:** JKR owns Harry Potter, et al. I just write about it.

**C&C:** Always Appreciated

_~_

"You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul."  - Julie-Jeanne-Eléonore de Lespinasse, 1774

~

Lucius slammed the parlor room doors behind him as he stalked down the halls of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"I cannot believe that woman," he hissed, pausing only long enough to consider which hallway to choose.

"In all my twenty years…  Too busy to see me?  She doesn't even have the decency to make an appearance.  Damn house elves don't know where she's run off to."  

He paused in front of a heavy set of doors.  The library.  Large enough to house a wicked little woman, perhaps?  It always had been one of her favorite places to hide.  

Lucius smirked.  "I'll find you myself."

He entered quietly, the doors making barely a sound as they brushed across the blood red runner.  He made his way down the center aisle, tucking his cane under his right arm.

A breath of weak sunlight drifted in through smoky glass, bringing a few of the mahogany shelves into clearer view.  Particles of dust danced through the air, made visible only as they wafted through the beam.  And there, in the middle of the aisle below the window…

Lucius froze.

Backed against the wall with a cracked, leather-bound book, was Cygnus' son. 

Hauntingly bright cerulean eyes glanced up at him over the vellum pages.  Those delicate fingers were poised over a single sentence, marking their place.  "Lucius?" 

The voice was melodic, but deeper than Lucius had remembered it being.  How old was Sirius now?  Thirteen, fourteen?

Lucius cleared his throat and took a few steps forward.  The click of his heels on the wooden floor was absorbed by the rows and rows of ancient texts that lined the shelves around him. 

Sirius smiled and shut the book carefully, running his hands over the rough surface.  "When did you arrive?  Mother didn't say anything-"

Lucius raised his hand, dismissing the conversation with a curt wave.  "I came unannounced.  I was hoping to have a word with your mother, but she's made herself unavailable for the afternoon." 

Sirius' smile darkened slightly.  There was a wickedness in those light eyes now that unnerved Lucius.  "It would have been easier on you if you'd sent an owl before coming all the way out here.  You know how Mother is."

"Yes, well."  Lucius brushed one of the folds in his viridian robe before looking back up.  "It was important Ministry business.  I'd thought she'd have a moment to spare."

Sirius let out a small laugh, turning to place the book on the shelf.  "She has all afternoon to spare.  She just delights in playing games."  Those eyes were upon him again, thoughtful.  An inquisitive tilt of the head.  "Especially with you."

It should be a sin, Lucius thought heatedly.  How similar were these two, mother and son?  The soft, black hair that fell around pale, smooth skin.  The perfectly oval face beset with luminous, cerulean eyes.  The slightly upturned nose and that full mouth always crooked into the barest of roguish grins.  Long neck leading to noble, defined shoulders.  

Lucius inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment.  Even behind his lids, he could still see those damnable features.

Of course, there were differences.  There was the slight masculine set to the boy's jaw, a width to his shoulders that betrayed his gender.  Where Cygnus was fragile, Sirius was simply supple.  Lucius knew that in two, maybe three years time, the boy would develop his father's formidable build.

But for now, he was fourteen and still wrapped in the delicate cloth of adolescence, stuck somewhere between man and child.

A mere child, Lucius reminded himself as he opened his eyes again.  "Why are you wearing you school clothes," he asked, angling his cane slightly to indicate Sirius' outfit.  The boy was still clad in black slacks, white shirt, and red tartan sweater vest bearing the Gryffindor crest. 

"I just got back from Hogwarts," Sirius admitted, turning to run his fingers along the spines of a few larger volumes before stopping at one in particular.  He glanced over his shoulder.  "Holiday and all."  He paused for a moment, contemplating the older man before him, before turning back to the books and continuing deeper into the shadowed walkway.

Lucius sighed, clasping his hands behind his back.  He decided to humor his younger cousin, slow steps following him down the aisle.  With every odd step, his ebony cane tapped against the back of his calf.  "You know how your mother feels about those colors," Lucius warned, glancing upward at the domed ceiling.

He could hear the laughter in Sirius' voice, though the boy retained his somber mask.  "I know.  That's why I haven't changed yet."

"Do you always take such pleasure in tormenting her?"

At this Sirius paused, placing his face extremely close to a thick volume on ancient magical creatures.  "I think maybe you have our roles reversed."  

Lucius' smile was patronizing.  He closed the distance between him and Sirius with a few silent steps.  "No, Sirius, I don't think I do.  I think you have always been an atrocious brat, especially toward your mother."

Sirius spun around, dark brows furrowed in a mixture of hatred and hurt.  "She has barely done anything to be worthy of that title.  She is spiteful and selfish."  His eyes narrowed.  "The only reason you put up with it is because you've lusted after her since you were my age."

Like a serpent's strike, Lucius' hand shot outwards, grabbing his cousin's chin roughly.  He applied firm pressure, pulling Sirius in until their noses almost touched.  His smile was slow, treacherous.  "Watch.  Your.  Tongue."

Adolescent anger brought a flush to the young boy's face, but when he raised his hand to separate them, Lucius caught it instead.

Tension rode back and forth between them.  The heat radiating from Sirius body caused an echoing flush in Lucius' own.  He took the time to run over those silken features more closely.

"Your fine breeding is starting to show, Sirius.  You look just like your mother.  Forth year at Hogwarts, is it?"

Sirius moved to pull away, but Lucius quickly pushed him back into the shelves.  A few books toppled to the floor, their dry pages rustling.  He let go of Sirius' face.  With one hand pinned above him and the rest of his body held in check by Lucius' own, Sirius wasn't in much position to negotiate pulling away.

Lucius allowed his free hand to travel down Sirius' chest, outlining the Gryffindor shield over his heart.  Sirius struggled slightly, a stubborn set to his jaw.

Those long fingers continued downward to the edge of the sweater vest, hovering at the belt around his waist.  "You should learn to listen to your elders," Lucius whispered, grey eyes meeting blue.  

Smoothly, he pulled the white shirt out of the trousers and pushed it up.  He allowed his fingers to brush against that soft skin of the stomach, to feel the heat gathered there.  He saw Sirius swallow slowly as if with difficulty.

"Lucius, what are you-"

Lucius tightened his grip painfully on Sirius' wrist, a pointed glare commanding silence.  Soon, the hands continued tracing obscure runes against his skin.  

"None of us are able to decide where you--" A poignant pause.  "Malfunctioned, Sirius.  You were always pretentious, always disobedient...  Always a disappointment."

His hands traveled upwards, brushing coyly against a nub of warm flesh.  Sirius' eyes slipped shut halfway, his other hand coming to rest on Lucius wrist.  There was no force behind the gesture, and Lucius wondered if the boy really meant to push that hand away at all.

He continued to stroke until the nipple became erect.  The only response from Sirius was a hitch in his breathing followed by a barely audible murmur.  

A measured smile graced Lucius' thin lips.  "Yes, you look _just_ like your mother, Sirius.  Just like Cygnus."  The last statement was a whisper, a precarious movement of breath that tickled the skin of Sirius' cheek. 

Sirius' eyes snapped open again, confusion in those cerulean depths.  He searched Lucius' face as if trying to find answers there, but all he found was veiled hostility.

Lucius allowed his hands to slide downward, undoing the buckle of the black belt.  It was perfectly clear what his intentions had become.  Mentally, Lucius shrugged it off.  He was going to get something out of his visit to this infernal place.

He slid his face closer to Sirius' ear, lips brushing against that small lobe.  "Do you remember what your mother said when she found out that you'd been placed in Gryffindor?  Inconsolable."

The button to the slacks was easy enough to undo, allowing Lucius' hand to slip inside them.  "You were too wretched to get into Slytherin.  Family traditions all thrown away because of you."

Sirius was trembling against him.  Lucius felt a cold power surge through his veins.  Here, he was in control.  He had the power.  That power was intoxicating.

His fingers brushed over Sirius' arousal.  Lucius arched his eyebrows, mocking the boy with a soft clucking of his tongue.  "Why, my dear boy.  What have we here?"

His grip turned firm, hands eliciting pain.  Sirius winced, arching backward.  "Lucius--"

The sting of Lucius' hand against his face silenced the Gryffindor.  "I don't recall asking for your input," he hissed, grey eyes narrowing.

There was a moment where Sirius looked as if he were actually contemplating speech before he shut his mouth.  The older man noticed there was a sudden luminous quality to those eyes that hadn't been there before.  Tears, perhaps?  

Lucius moved his head to the side, resting his face in the crook of Sirius' neck.  He inhaled, taking in the warm masculine scent, the faintest trace of sandalwood.  His desire to possess this creature beneath him flared into an uncontrollable blaze. 

He moved away, yanking Sirius violently from the wall.  With minor protests, he dragged his cousin down the aisle until they came to a heavy wooden table with a few books scattered across them.  He didn't bother with the obstacles.  He simply flung the boy against it, pressing him back against the wood.

Once again, Sirius raised a hand only to be pinned to the table by Lucius' ferocity.  Lucius bent over the younger boy, running his tongue along the ridge of his right ear.  He nipped slightly at the lobe, pausing.  "I suppose being a whore runs in your blood, too.  Pathetic."

Lucius' tongue traced a line downward from the ear, stopping at the area where shoulder met neck.  He bit down and heard Sirius cry out, his voice an enchanting mixture of pain and pleasure.  Lucius licked the wound gently.

"Do what I say," he purred, the vibrations eliciting a shiver from his hostage.  "Mind me, and perhaps this may even be enjoyable for you."

Sirius went limp against him, his eyes slipping shut.  He turned his face to away in silent submission.  Lucius let go of the boy's hands to run long fingers through silken hair.  "Good boy."

Lucius placed his hands on either side of the boy's face, turning it toward him again.  "I want your eyes open, Sirius.  I want you to see everything."  Those young eyes had darkened considerably, smoldering now as they locked on him.  Lust made corporeal.

"There is a fine line between hate and obsession, dearest cousin," Lucius whispered, his hand wandering down to run across the ridge of a pelvic bone into the valley of the navel.  

Sirius drew back as those long fingers glided lower again to stroke the growing heat between his legs.  His hands instinctively moved to Lucius' chest; he gripped the fabric of Lucius' robes frantically.

Lucius felt a small smile pull at the corners of his mouth.  He surged forward, taking Sirius's mouth with his own.  Sirius melted against him, moving with each movement, one arm tentatively snaking around his neck.  Lucius could feel his own pulse throbbing in his temple.

That one kiss seemed to last for eternity, breathless and empowering.  Everything around him faded into mist.  All that remained visible were lips, eyes, and hands.  Furtive movements, whispered incoherencies.  That small body moving beneath his own.

Lucius broke the connection between them for a moment to pull away, undoing the first few clasps of the robe at his neck.  Before he could move back in, however, a soft giggle from behind him caused his blood to turn to ice.  He turned his head over his shoulder, dreading what he would see.

"Now, Lucius, that's hardly proper conduct for an adult, don't you think?"  The thin book clasped in Cygnus' hand was covering her mouth slightly, but the amusement was apparent in the frigid blue upon her face.

Lucius' own granite grey eyes narrowed, but he stayed where he was; he refused to give her more of the upper hand then she already had by acting thrown off guard.  He could hear a dry sob escape his cousin's raw throat, and for a brief moment, he shared the sentiment.

Cygnus continued to stand there, drinking the scene in.  One of those pale hands brushed a long strand of wavy black hair from her bare shoulder, pausing to stroke the skin there thoughtfully.

She spoke again.  "My son is right, Lucius, I do enjoy playing games.  And this is certainly a droll one at that.

"However, as I said before, I'm not available this afternoon.  My son shouldn't be either, as he has unpacking to do; his father will be home in a few hours and will expect a formal dinner.  I am to make sure that everything is order when he returns.  If you'll excuse me, boys." 

She turned and took a few steps, the layers of her silk robes swishing as she walked.  Then she stopped again and turned a demure gaze over her shoulder.  "But you are right, as well, Lucius.  There is a fine line between hate and obsession.  Perhaps you should have thought a bit longer on that before you so defiantly smudged them."  A coquettish quirk of one fine brow, and she left.

Lucius paused and looked down at the child below him.  No matter how much he had once longed to see Cygnus' face beneath him, he could not but know that this was her son, his cousin.  It was Sirius he had wanted, Sirius he now desired to possess.  

The blonde stood abruptly, straightening his robes back and fastening the clasps.  "This is not to be spoken of," he growled.  "It never happened."  Lucius snatched up his cane and turned to stalk out of the library.

No matter his fury, however, he was consumed by the image of those eyes.  Where Cygnus was icy and indifferent, Sirius was fiery and passionate.  It was that very flame which now threatened to devour him completely.

With every step he took, however, he felt as if part of him were being pulled backwards to that table, to that boy: a fact that only made him hate his cousin more.


End file.
